Lone Girl (The Wolfling Saga) (21 page)

I kept my jaw clenched tight, afraid to talk. If I opened my mouth words would pour out and I wouldn’t be able to stop them.

I forced a polite smile. “
Certainly
,” I said, rather strained.

The room I’d woken up in was used to hold new patients
upon the first day of their arrival. Professor Colt gave me some books, magazines and puzzles for the rest of the afternoon and told me I’d be initiated the following morning. It was torturous, sitting in that white room, waiting for the moment I’d see Tom.

A horrible thought struck me.

What if he didn’t want to see me? What if my arrival at this facility was unwelcome? 

However, I didn’t know how I’d react to seeing Tom, either. I was mad at him for abandoning me after he’d asked me to run with him. I was heartbroken that he’d found it so easy to leave. Worse yet, he hadn’t even tried to contact me. 

I needed closure. If Tom told me he didn’t want me, then I would accept it. If he asked me to leave him alone, then I would. I just had to speak to him face to face as adults.

I fell into an uneasy sleep that night, tossing and turning. I could hear shoes clicking constantly as scientists, doctors, professors, cleaners
and military personnel walked past my room. Surely it wasn’t this noisy all of the time.

Tuesday – 13 days to go

Around two o’clock in the morning I finally drifted to sleep, only to be woken at the crack of dawn by busty woman with a round face who banged on my door.

It’s just temporary
, I reminded myself.
I can leave any time I want to. Professor Colt said so himself. The documents I signed stated that I could leave whenever I pleased, so long as I was not deemed insane and dangerous.

I thought about the disembodied foot in the bomb-shelter and a shiver of fear ran through me. No, there was no way anyone except my father could know about that. We’d been very thorough.

After controlling my breathing I got out of bed and pulled on the plain white clothes that had been left for me in the chest of drawers. Poking my head out of the door I saw no one I recognized. I wasn’t sure where I was meant to go; Professor Colt said he’d be here to initiate me, but he was
nowhere to be seen.

Just as I was beginning to fret I heard hurried footsteps; Professor Colt was jogging along the corridor towards me, his glasses askew.

“So sorry,” he breathed, stopping in front of me. “We had a little … a little issue with one of our patients.”

“What happened?” I asked.

He waved a hand as though it didn’t matter. “Nothing to worry about. I gave them a quick briefing before taking you to meet them. One of them got a bit angry.”

“Angry?” I repeated. “Why?”

“He’s one of our … forcibly detained patients. Not quite stable, doesn’t like change. Criminal record, history of violence, et cetera, et cetera.” Professor Colt dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief and smiled. “Shall we?”

“
You keep criminals here?” I asked, shocked. “This guy’s not going to hurt me or anything, is he?”

“Oh, no, don’t worry. We’ve sedated him and taken him to his room to calm down.
He’ll come around soon enough.”

I gave an audible gulp.

“Come, Rose. There are many people for you to meet. People just like you.”

I nodded and allowed myself to be steered down the hall.

Professor Colt had gathered all of the other werewolves into a community room for a ‘meet and greet’, which made me nervous. I’d never been around so many others like me. For once I’d fit in.

“Here we are,” Colt said, placing his hand on the door knob. “Don’t be shy.” He opened the door and led me inside.

The room was full of men, women, some teenagers and even a couple of children, some as young as seven or eight. They had all been talking amongst themselves, lounging on sofas and sitting on tables prior to my arrival, but as soon as Colt and I walked through the door they stopped talking at once to look at me.

I looked over their faces; different ages, different races, all regular-looking people. However, the room was heavy with the scent of werewolves. It was almost intoxicating.

“Good morning everyone,” Professor Colt beamed at his patients. “I’d like you all to give a warm welcome to our newest member, Rose.” It felt like I was being introduced to a new class at school. They muttered among themselves; I could feel them judging me but I didn’t care. My eyes scanned the room, but it didn’t take long to realize that Tom was not there.

With a horrible jolt I realized that
Tom was the man who had been forcibly detained.

Their murmurs and whispers now made sense.

“That’s her,” said a teenage girl no older than fifteen. She spoke to a pimple-faced boy of the same age.

Professor Colt cleared his throat loudly, perhaps trying to mask the teen’s voices.

“Now, I expect you all to treat Rose with respect. I’ll give you half an hour to chat with each other before breakfast is served.” And with that Professor Colt excused himself from the room. I stood before the thirty-or-so Werewolves feeling exceptionally foolish.

My mind raced. Tom was here against his will. They’d called him a criminal. He’d lost his temper when he discovered that I was at the facility. 

“Where is he?” I demanded, looking at the teenage girl who had spoken before.

She shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Reckon they taken ‘im to solitary,” said the pimple-faced boy in an English accent.

“Solitary? Where’s that?” I asked

“They won’ letcha see ‘im,” he scoffed. “Besides, I don’ fink ‘e wants to see ya, anyway.”

“
Where is solitary
?” I demanded loudly, advancing on the boy.

He shrunk away from me. Perhaps it was a werewolf thing; but I instantly knew that I was more dominant than this little shit.

“Orrite, jeez. It’s jus’ down the hall.” It seemed he could sense it too.

I turned on my heel and whipped from the room, mutters following me. The pimpled boy yelled after me. “Oi! I fink they got ‘im guarded!”

As I sprinted down the deserted hall my mind raced. Tom had caused a scene when he had learned of my presence in the facility. Why? Had he been glad to be safe here, away from me, away from the law?

It didn’t seem likely. If he liked it here, wh
y on earth would he be forcibly detained?

I rounded a corner and skidded to a halt,
my white sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floor. A double swing-door was ahead, completely unmanned.
Lucky
, I thought. I pushed through them and found myself in a corridor of locked rooms. I peered through each of the door’s little square windows to the cells beyond. Most of them were empty with the exception of two. The first contained a filthy looking woman with ragged blonde hair down to her waist. The second, of course, contained Tom.

I looked at him through the glass. He sat upon the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. His hair was dishevelled, sticking up in all directions. His right leg bounced impatiently.

My mouth dry, I raised my knuckles to the glass and tapped twice. Tom jumped, looking up with wild eyes. Our gaze locked and he froze, an expression of utter defeat etched across his prematurely lined face. He looked as though he’d aged ten years in the few weeks we had been apart.

I didn’t move. I only stared.

Tom got to his feet slowly and crossed the room in a few short steps.

“Rose,” he sighed, his breath fogging the window. His sea-green eyes darted across m
y face, reading me like a book. “I’m so sorry.” His voice broke, wrenching at my heart-strings. In that moment I thought that I could forgive him for abandoning me, for leaving me in that warehouse with nothing.

No, I couldn’t. Not yet.

Perhaps Tom deserved to be here, locked away. He’d escaped one prison only to go running into another.
But
, I reminded myself,
it’s my fault he’s in this predicament in the first place
. Perhaps it was I who should be begging for forgiveness.

“Tom.” My voice was nothing more than a whisper.
I had no words.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “You shouldn’t have come here,” he said, his voice ragged.

I shook my head. “I came here looking for you.”

“
I don’t want you here
,” he hissed.

I jumped violently when a hand came down on my shoulder. It was gentle, but I hadn’t even heard Professor Colt’s approaching footsteps.

“I see you’ve found our solitary rooms,” Professor Colt said, a kind smile on his face. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, Rose.”

“
What’s going on? Why is he in here?”

“Come, Rose. I’ll explain everything in my office.”

“No!” Tom bellowed, banging his fists upon the locked door. “Don’t you
fucking
dare!” he spat, spraying the glass. 

I allowed myself to be steered away from the room, Colt’s hand upon my shoulder
and Tom’s shouts behind me.

When Colt showed me into his office, I was slightly shaken.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Rose,” he said, sighing sadly. Colt took off his spectacles and rubbed them on his sweater.

“Why are you holding him prisoner?” I asked, my voice weak.

Colt sighed and took his seat behind his desk and indicated for me to sit too. I did, listening eagerly.

“Tom is … a very damaged young man,” Colt said sadly. “We’ve had numerous psychiatrists evaluate him and, well, whilst I can’t give you specifics
I can tell you what has happened here over the last two weeks. It’s best you hear it from me rather than one of our other patients who witnessed the ordeal.”

“What happened?”

“Tom arrived here, exhausted, wounded and unkempt. He was septic, starved and frozen to the bone.”

“
Wounded
?” I interrupted.

Colt nodded. “
He was badly knifed whilst on a fishing boat off the coast. We believe he swam several miles to shore. They injury alone should have killed him.”